


There Beneath

by Glowsquid



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, BAMF Link (Legend of Zelda), Breath of the Wild Spoilers, Coma, Exploration, Friendship, Gen, Link (Legend of Zelda) Needs a Hug, Link (Legend of Zelda) is Lonely, Memory Loss, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Self-Discovery, Survival, Wilderness, the oh hellos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28455291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowsquid/pseuds/Glowsquid
Summary: There beneath the willow treeI learned a lot about the way of thingsI learned that everything (the wind, the leaves)Has breath inside- There Beneath, by The Oh HellosLink wakes up alone with nothing but the voice in his head and the words of a ghost to guide him. But there is life to be found in the desolation of the calamity, and he is not as alone as he thinks he is.Inspired by my own playthrough of botw and the lyrics of The Oh Hellos.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. o sleeper, awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link may not remember, but his body does.

_Hear on the wind how the pendulum swings  
Feel how the winter succumbs to the spring  
Over the palisade morning will break  
Rise up to meet it, oh sleeper awake_

_\- Caesar  
_

He stands in the cold, damp tomb and marvels at the scars. 

There’s more of them on him than there would be on most people, he thinks. The faded white marks across his body tell stories of fire and fighting and sharp edges, and while he knows how the stories ended, the beginnings and middles are totally blank. 

_I was hurt_ he thinks, _Badly_. 

He's still getting acquainted with his body as he makes his way down the hillside. The slim figure suggests brute force was never his forte, but he senses power in his lithe muscles nevertheless. His legs aren't very long, but when he pushes himself he can sprint with a grace that surprises him, even if he runs out of breath before too long.

 _I was strong_ , he thinks. _I still am._  
The hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and Link freezes. He's not sure what might currently be making him nervous, but his body hasn't betrayed him yet; maybe it's best to listen to it.

Careful not to make a sound, he hunkers down in the grass and grabs a stout stick lying on the ground. 

There is a sound now, a snuffling and growling. An animal? 

With a rattling, bestial shriek, the creature lunges. 

Not an animal!

Before Link knows he’s doing it, his arm raises the branch over his head in a defensive posture. 

The claws that would have raked across his face are deflected by the branch, and with practiced ease he returns the strike, landing two solid strikes on the creature’s body. It stumbles back, reeling, and Link presses the advantage. 

He doesn’t have to think at all as he attacks. His hands grip the branch like one might grip a sword, each strike meeting its intended target with brutal force. The branch shatters in his hands in a sudden burst of splinters, but that was enough. The beast falls back, it's rank body seeming to melt away into a puff of black and purple smoke that rises into the air, and Link wonders if he's imagining how it seems to fly against the wind as if being called back to a destination or purpose hidden in the seemingly endless Wild. 

When it’s over, he simply stands there, panting with exertion, sweat drying on his skin as the Wild breathes with and around him. His fingers flex and clench around the branch he still holds, ad he hefts it experimentally. 

_I was a fighter_. 

These are the things he knows about himself so far. 

_My name is Link. I was wounded, I was strong, I was a fighter._

That will have to be enough to go on for now. He needs to learn more, but if any more of those monsters are out there, staying alive is a tall enough order for the time being. Not to mention that his stomach is beginning to growl with hunger like a monster itself. 

Maybe the man by that campfire will be able to help him. 

__


	2. shapes in the silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link wonders if he was awoken to an empty world. 
> 
> Until he meets the man on the bridge.

_Like constellations a million years away  
Every good intention, every good intention  
Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array  
Looking for the faces  
Looking for the shapes in the silence_

_\- Constellations_

As far as he was concerned he had been alone his entire life. The phantasm of the old man - his _king_ \- didn’t count, really. His only companionship since leaving the plateau had been the deer and the birds and the foxes and the little forest spirits that turned up under rocks. 

Them, and the monsters. 

But they certainly didn’t count at all. They only served to make Link’s life a living hell. He was on the move constantly, swallowing hasty meals, burning his fingers on the charred meat or mushrooms he pulled from the coals of a boko campfire, sleeping uneasily on the cold dirt, afraid to rest for long lest they come back. Lest he be caught unawares and the sky bleed red and his chance to do something for this ruined land was over before it begun. 

As Link wandered, he wondered if that chance meant anything at all. Everything he had seen was in ruins. Crumbled temples and houses as far as the eye could see. The odd rotting pile of planks grown over with moss where a wagon or shed used to be. The shrines were the only things that hadn’t completely succumbed to the encroaching wilds or husks of spider-like guardians. 

Was there anything of Hyrule truly left to save? 

He wished, not for the first time, he had never woken up. He was barely sleeping. New bruises and scrapes and cuts appeared on his body every day. Monsters lay in wait everywhere he went. Despite all of this, the loneliness was the worst part. More than once, he felt the urge to shout. To stand on the highest peak he could find and scream as loudly as he could just to hear an answer. To hear proof that he wasn’t alone in this vast, hostile world. 

Not that he could afford that. Such a noise would send every Hinox, Boko, Moblin, and Lizal his way. It would be foolish. 

And then he met Brigo. 

He was so stunned he couldn't find any words to speak, but the bridge guard didn’t seem to mind. Initially, he was wary of Link, but once he determined he wasn’t a threat he was friendly. 

It was the first smile Link had ever seen. 

He pointed him towards the stable that supposedly lay past the dueling peaks, and his last words to Link were encouraging as Link took back to the road. 

Words that lingered on his mind as he walked. 

Brigo was strong. Guarding the bridge against enemies day and night, and yet he was hopeful. He watched against an enemy that would never truly leave, to protect…..

To protect. There were people out there that Brigo wanted to protect. 

There _was_ something left of this endless Wild. 

Link picked up the pace. He had a stable to get to. 


	3. what's worth saving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link finds a sanctuary

_We keep fixing what we know is only bound to break  
What's worth saving is never worth letting go to waste  
I want to mend what I've got, instead of throwing away  
Ain't nothing come easy  
No, nothing comes quick  
It's gonna hurt like hell to become well  
But if we set the bone straight  
It'll mend, it'll fix  
And we'll be well_

Theseus

An unidentifiable emotion wells in Link’s chest as he catches sight of the stable, fierce enough to squeeze his throat with the threat of tears. From his vantage point, the stable is a mass of color and light. And he hears voices too, and music, and they’re sweeter than any sounds he’s heard since he woke up.

He walks towards the grand tent with trepidation. He doesn’t know if he’s more worried that they’ll be frightened of him or that he should be frightened of them, but neither outcome presents itself in the immediate future. 

“Hey, stranger!” 

The voice comes from behind him, and Link starts, hand instinctively going to the rusty sword strapped to his back. It isn’t any monster. It’s a person. Not a ghost, but a real man. Like Brigo. Like himself. He has dark skin and a wide smile and is carrying the haunches of a deer over his shoulders. 

“I’m Mezer! I haven’t seen you around here before! What’s your name?” 

Link wants to reply. He really does. This man seems nice (as if Link could be any judge of character) and the stable ahead looks inviting, and he’s so terribly lonely he just wants the company of another person to take comfort in. 

But the words don’t come. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times, and lets out a huff of frustration before something strange happens. Almost of their own accord, his right hand moves. His fingers lift and twist and tuck under themselves in a way that is both familiar and completely foreign. He’s never done this before in this life, but he knows what he means all the same. 

L-I-N-K. 

Recognition lights in Mezer’s eyes. “Oh! So you sign. Are you deaf, Link?” His free hand signs the words he says, but Link finds he wouldn’t have needed to hear to understand the movements. 

He shakes his head, and taps his index and middle fingers against his thumb. 

“Just mute, huh? That’s okay, most everyone around here can sign anyway. It’s too handy a skill to not have in these lands. Hey, you want to buy any meat? Or you got any to sell me?” 

He’s a bit taken aback by the question, but Link pulls out some waterfowl drumsticks he had saved, carefully wrapped in leaves inside his pack. 

“Hey, those aren’t bad! I can offer you 24 for those, sound good?”

Link has no idea what he is going to receive 24 of, but Mezer seems like a trustworthy person, (never mind the fact that he’s only the second real person Link has ever met in his life), so he nods, and Mezer drops a few small jewels that he dug out of his pocket into Link’s palm. Four blue, and four green. 

He’ll ask what they mean later. 

“Anyway,” Mezer says, as he packs Link’s drumsticks into his pack. “You heading to the stables for supper? That’s where I’m going. That’s what I would do if I were you too, it’ll be getting dark soon, and travelling at night is no picnic.” 

Link nods, and Mezer smiles broadly. “Great! Come on then, don’t want to miss supper. And look! Toma’s around too. There’s a whole lot of nice people around here, I’ll make sure to introduce you.” And with that, he’s setting off towards the stable, leaving Link with no choice to follow.

As tired as he is of being alone, Link finds he’s anxious about being around so many people at once. What is he supposed to do? Will his voice cooperate once he’s around more people? Was he sociable in his past life, or just as awkward and unpleasant as he fears he will now be? What if they take one look at him and laugh him straight back through the pass? He deliberately slows his steps, hanging back behind Mezer as he keeps moving forward. 

"Hey, Mezer!" Calls a voice from the stable. "You took your sweet time bringing dinner! And who's that with you!"

Link feels proud at how he keeps himself from hiding behind Mezer. 

"This is Link! He'll be joining us tonight. Link, this is Rensa, he's the horse expert around here, I suppose. 

Rensa takes Link's hand to shake heartily, and Link can't help but flinch a bit at the sheer strength with which his hand is wrung. 

"Pleased to meet ya! This is my brother, Tassaren, he runs the inn, if you'll be wanting a place to sleep. And this here is Hino, and that one over there is Sagessa. Those two useless lugs inside are Domidak and Prissen," he ignores the indignant protests from the two young men, "this young man is Shibo, and that's Toma. She spends most of her time on the road, but she stops by to bother us every now and then." He pats the young woman on the shoulder good-naturedly as she shakes off her muddy travelling boots, and she gives him a smile in return. 

Then, comes the dreaded question. 

"So, where are you from, young Link?"

 _The plateau,_ he signs.

"No no. I meant where did you come from. Although you got some guts to go exploring up there."

Tassaren leans forward, swatting his brother in the arm. 

"Don't pester the kid, Rensa. He's had a long day." He turns his attention to Link. "You can stay for as long as you like. We're all about to have dinner here in a bit, you're welcome to join us. In the morning after you've had a good sleep, Rensa can give you some pointers about catching yourself a horse. Until then, rest and relax. You're safe here." 

Link swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. He touches his fingers to his chin and pushes out with an open palm. 

"You're welcome! Talk to me if you need anything, I'll leave you to get settled." He slaps the desk twice with an almost paternal air of finality and turns back inside, saying something two the two young men inside. 

He gives Rensa what he hopes is a polite nod before turning towards the fire, in hopes of finding somewhere to sit. 

But instead of a seat, what he finds right in front of him is a dog. Sitting back on her haunches, staring up at Link with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Link looks around. No one seems to pay him or the dog any attention, so Link sidles forward and squats down in front of the dog. 

Dog and Hylian regard each other. She pushes her nose into his face and licks gently. He barely has time to pet her when she bowls him over completely, rolling over his legs and exposing the silky white fur on her belly, looking at link with an expression of complete trust. Link’s heart melts at the sight, and as he obliges her by stroking her fur, her tongue lolls out of her mouth in happiness. 

It’s then Link notices the sound of someone laughing. It’s an odd, breathy sound to Link's ears, and so hauntingly familiar Link freezes, stopping his petting to listen, and that strange sounds stops with it. 

That’s how Link realizes the laughter belongs to him. 

It’s not that he thought he wasn’t capable of laughter, he just hadn’t been sure if he was the kind of person who laughed very often, or what sort of things amused him enough to make him do so. It feels a little like something inside him has been set free. A small piece of the puzzle that isLink has fallen into place. 

_My name is Link. I was wounded. I was a fighter. I like dogs._

\---

Having a meal with a group is a new experience for Link, but he finds it to be pleasant. He does eventually find the promised seat by the fire and the various and sundry inhabitants of the stable cluster around the cooking pot like hungry moths. He is passed a bowl of soup and a mug of something spicy and delicious that warms his insides like glowing embers. Conversation flows calm and easy among the people gathered by the fire, occasionally broken by a swell of laughter or a quiet lull as the river and the flames and the wind breathing through the grasses fill the night with their music. 

Link’s close to nodding off by the time the dishes are taken up and the little group begins to disperse. 

“I hope you’ll sleep here with us tonight, Link,” says Tassaren as wipes the mugs that Sagessa just washed dry on his apron. “I don’t know if you have another place to get to, but it’s awfully dangerous to travel at night. The beds are only 20 a night.”

Right. Money. Link pulls out the little colored gems that Mezer had traded him for his duck legs. He’s pretty sure Mezer said that was 24, but he didn’t know which was which. He laid his money on the counter, and looked up at the innkeeper, hoping he would take what he needed. 

“Oops, looks like you overpaid me there.” Tasarren sweeps the blue gems into his hand, puts them in his pocket, and nudges the green ones back toward Link. He gestures to the bed in the middle of the yurt. “That one’s free. Take a load off, kid. We’ll wake you up in the morning.”

Link reclaims the rest of his money, (the green ones must be worth one each, he thinks), and signs his thanks. A few people wish him good night as he makes his way over to the bed, and he gives each of them a nod or a wave or returns the sentiment in sign before removing his sword, shield, bow, quiver, and boots. He draws all four curtains shut around his bed, draws the covers over himself, and closes his eyes. 

His last thought before he loses consciousness is how fortunate he has been today, to find such a sanctuary.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title and chapter headings and closings are lyrics by The Oh Hellos. The songs used can be found (in order) [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Yfrw5ZCkTGPBKoTDmvS9L?si=IFAM1Jk5TOaljll---vH-w)
> 
> Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed this little blurb and want to read more. And please check out The Oh Hellos. They're a fabulous bunch of artists, their music is really something special and a surprising amount of their lyrics can be connected to Link's journey.


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